


the different kinds of kisses

by LoondeLune



Category: DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anxiety, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Panic Attacks, and Jason is hella fuckedt up, anyways these boys are hella gay and hella in love, smooches involved, somewhat slow burn, sort of...., well like the formatting is like 5+1 ig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 17:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14406570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoondeLune/pseuds/LoondeLune
Summary: "Hey, uh, you…you ever been kissed?”The words were whispered across the dark expanse of the room. Moonlight filtered in through the open window, illuminating the silhouette of the man who spoke as his back lay to the night.“…What?”There are many different kinds of kisses earned and learned over a lifetime. Jason and Kyle explore them together.





	the different kinds of kisses

**Author's Note:**

> so, like nyah?
> 
> anyway here's the format without giving too much away:  
> 1\. drunken kiss  
> 2\. passionate kiss  
> 3\. steamy kiss ;)  
> 4\. emotional kiss  
> +1. loving kiss

"Hey, uh, you…you ever been kissed?”

The words were whispered across the dark expanse of the room. Moonlight filtered in through the open window, illuminating the silhouette of the man who spoke as his back lay to the night. The owner of the room couldn't be bothered with closing the curtains to the large window, and currently he was grateful for that fact as his eyes had to strain less on the figure in front of him.

“…What?”

He hoped he looked as exasperated and confused as he sounded. Alcohol still coursed thickly through his veins, and he'd found difficulty in expressing his words earlier; they came out garbled and slurred instead of cryptically articulated like he wanted, like his persona called for.

The man beside him shifted in bed so that his whole body was facing him, his hand slid cozily under his cheek, the other laying casually in the sheets between them, close. His whole posture and body language was open, as if they'd been friends forever, as if they were…something they were not.

Jason had known Kyle for a while. He'd gotten to be more acquainted with him than he'd originally desired as they spanned across dimensions and other worlds searching for one man. If that had never happened would he be where he is now? The time they spent traveling together had come to a pass, and even more time expiring before Jason randomly ran into Donna during some down time. She was painfully friendly as always, bruises already formed on Jason’s deltoid evidence of that. She’d smiled and chatted, asked for Jason to join her at a bar to catch up “for old times sake”, placed a firm hand around his bicep when he tried to evade and head in the opposite direction, friendly smile turning dangerous.

The bar Donna had led him to was dingy at best and in desperate need of some decent lighting. But even in the dim lighting he could recognize his face anywhere. Kyle was like the sun, with his own gravitational pull; all cocky jokes and dimpled cheeks, the starving artist with a heart of gold. That heart of his, and sense of justice and duty, was what led him to be the first and only white lantern, Jason was sure.

His heart leapt into his throat at the sight of Kyle, beating rapidly against his chest, pounding, thumping, escaping. Almost escaping. Jason was used to wearing a mask—hell he wore two of them, the helmet and the domino—so it was easy to school his features into a lighthearted scowl. It didn't mean much; he wasn't willing to get too close to either of them, especially Kyle, but he was here so he might as well enjoy a few drinks with comrades of old.

They drank themselves silly. Jason admittedly had never drunk that much before, hating the feeling of inebriety. Loose lips sink ships and nothing was looser than whiskey on the rocks. Somehow, during some part of the night, Donna had suggested they take the party back to her place. It was near, not far, the boys could crash there if they wanted to, we’re all friends here, right?

They drank themselves past oblivion. In the spacious apartment Donna called home, the three stooges cleared out two tequila bottles and began working on a third before Jason’s stomach made its final protest of the night. Donna started screeching at him not to get vomit on her antique rug when he began to dry heave and while Jason pondered why they had been drinking on such an auspicious and expensive decorative item, Kyle yanked him up by the armpits and dragged him to the cool porcelain of the bathroom throne.

He puked his guts out. By the end of it, about an hour had passed, Donna had already changed into pajamas and climbed into bed leaving the boys to fend for themselves, and little was left in Jason’s stomach save for a few drops of bile and acid. Kyle had grabbed Jason’s hand and squirted and generous amount of toothpaste on his forefinger instructing him to scrub away and leaving to gather a glass of water. He’d led Jason to the edge of the bed, Donna already plastered to the wall on the far end, as he rummaged through the dresser and closet. He’d helped to strip Jason down to his boxer-briefs before guiding his arms through an oversized Wonder Woman hoodie. Kyle gently guided Jason’s body to lie down on the bed next to Donna’s, already snoring lightly. Jason had watched as Kyle shed his jeans, turned off the lights then climbed into bed next to Jason. They lay in silence, in the dark, eyes cast to the ceiling, and just as Jason felt the fogginess in his mind take over, Kyle whispered those words.

They stared at each other now, Jason with his eyebrows drawn down as his brain desperately tried to connect the dots that led him to this question, and Kyle looking at him expectantly. When it became clear that Jason was stupid drunk still, Kyle sighed and tentatively asked again.

“Have you ever been kissed?”

Jason slowly shook his head, barely recognizing the light ignite in Kyle’s eyes in enough time to clarify the situation. “No…I mean, no, why are you asking?” He knew his words didn't make sense, but somehow Kyle could speak Drunk.

“Well, I mean. You know…,” he shrugged sheepishly. “You died when you were a kid…and yeah, you’ve been back for a while but you kind of have your own agenda going on.”

“Doesn't everybody?” Jason asked as seriously as he could since he was genuinely perplexed by the current line of questioning. Damn alcohol. If he made it out of this night in one piece without any embarrassing memories, he swore to never get this drunk again.

“Fair enough. But, well, maybe not quite like you,” he said, and that small grin blossomed on his mouth, dimples softly peeking out from his cheeks. “You know you're rather vengeful.”

“Rightfully so,” Jason said flatly, brows tugging lower and nodding his head to assert that he was The Most Right.

Kyle added a quiet breathy laugh to that grin and Jason felt something warm pool in his stomach, something forming in his chest, tight and gooey all at the same time.

Vulnerable.

Kyle made him feel vulnerable, or maybe it was the excessive whiskey and tequila combination, but Jason favored the idea of it being Kyle's doing.

He snaked his tongue out to wet his lips lightly and didn't miss how Kyle tracked the movement before asking, “why kissing?”

“Huh?”

“Why do you want to know if I've been kissed?”

“Oh.” Then, “…curiosity?”

“Hm.”

“So? Have you?”

“You're persistent,” Jason grumble-sighed, head turning back towards the ceiling for a brief moment. Then he changed his position, opting to lay on his side facing Kyle, mimicking his body. He reached a hand under his pillow, the other across the sheet inches away from Kyle’s own fingertips. “I have.”

He wasn't sure why but Kyle looked only mildly surprised and somewhat…disappointed. The look was there and gone in a flash before a new thought sparked behind warm brown eyes.

“How many?”

“Mm…dunno,” he responded simply, lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug. He didn't give the question much thought, his mind still stuck on the peculiar expression that had crossed Kyle’s face.

“Not very memorable then,” Kyle mumbled.

“Well, I've had other things to worry about and relationships aren't very pleasurable for me.”

The words tumbled out of his mouth without warning and before he could stop them. Sure, it had been quite some time since Jason had graced the earth a second time and, sure, he’d gotten through a lot of shit but he still had even more shit to get through. Shit he was putting off getting through. Shit he didn't want to drag this man through for some reason.

“Hm,” Kyle hummed. He’d turned his head slightly, just enough so that his face was cast in shadows and Jason couldn't read his expression anymore in the dark. Something about his posture seemed off though, just a bit more closed off than it had been before, more turned in towards himself, chest vaguely caved in on itself as if for protection.

Before he could stop himself he whispered, “wanna make a memorable one?”

“What…?” His face turned towards Jason again, and in the dim white light he could see Kyle’s lips slightly parted in shock, his brows slightly furrowed and something unreadable in his eyes; it wasn't confusion, Jason concluding that he had in fact heard and understood his suggestion. Those lips of his, supple and pink, were parted and Jason couldn't stop himself from fixating on them, couldn't stop himself as he took in Kyle’s expression, as he leaned forward slowly.

The kiss was short and sweet; his eyes fluttered close as he made contact, their lips brushing together for a brief moment before Jason parted his lips and applied the barest of pressure against Kyle’s. He broke away, blowing out a tiny exhale, watching as his breath ghosted over Kyle’s skin and caused goosebumps. Then he returned to his side of the bed, his cheek finding it's place back in his palm. Jason’s eyes traveled from the lips he’d just kissed back up into wide eyes.

Kyle laughed breathily again, small smile playing on his lips, a rim of green shimmering brightly around brown irises as he gazed across the expanse of sheets into Jason’s own eyes. And Jason smiled back at him, just as giddy and still a little drunk and he prayed and hoped and wished on all the stars that he would remember that kiss, falling asleep to Kyle’s fingertips brushing together in the barest of touch atop the bed they shared, their friend sleeping unaware behind them.

* * *

Sometimes during the heat of battle Jason will remember what it's like being dead. Not the “after”, when he breathed his last breath and the world went dark and silent and he felt suspended on a high wire, but the little bit before and the immediately after.

As a piece of flaming shrapnel came flying at his head—reflexes kicking in on instinct giving Jason just enough time to duck, swivel, and fire a barrage of bullets at the next moving sentient object—the image of cold metal cracking across his skull flashed before his eyes. As he gets knocked flat on his back, air forcefully pushed from his lungs as his body connects with hard asphalt, the memory of laying helplessly on the concrete floor of a warehouse, blood pooling around him in slow rhythmic ripples relentlessly barrages his eyes as they lose focus from the impact.

Jason Todd remembered everything.

Still he fought on.

The city was covered in sentient alien robots and the only reason the Justice League hadn't gotten involved was because the Lanterns showed up to stop the invasion almost immediately after it began. Jason just happened to be at the wrong place at the right time. He lent his own hand in demolishing the small army, a 5-man team of Green flying above him, visible in every direction. He stuck with ground control, working on simultaneously getting citizens to safety and blasting the giant hunks of metal to bits.

Firing off another quick array of bullets, he glanced up scanning the skies. His gaze landed on the Lantern he was seeking, arm outstretched in the construct of a giant tank mid-air, green missiles firing away. He let out a quick breath, relief trickling down his spine before he moved further down the street he was currently working on clearing.

He’d been running into Kyle more and more often over the years, either by intent or pure coincidence like today. Most days Jason would be glad to see him; right now he wished it had been under better circumstances.

Suddenly a loud crack sounded in the air and it was the only warning Jason got before something impacted with his helmet and his head snapped backwards. He staggered back a few steps, not quite off balance enough to knock him down for good and he silently thanked his years of training trying to catch up with Dick's acrobatic shenanigans. He righted himself, stretching an arm out the side and groping for something to hold onto. His hand landed on what felt like a brick wall and he placed more weight upon that side, leaning slightly as his swimming vision slowly came back to clarity. Warmth dripped along his cheek and he reached up a hand only for it to come away red. The left side of his helmet had been shattered by whatever hit him.

His ears were ringing and he thought he heard yelling nearby, but his head hurt and he felt like he might be sick or pass out and oh, _fuck_. He could just barely make out the entrance to an alley up ahead and he prayed to God that it was void of alien robots bent on world domination. He rounded the corner and, seeing it was clear, slowly sunk to the ground. Everything hurt all at once and he couldn't catch his breath, looking down and watching abstractly as his chest rose and fell in rapid succession without the consumption of enough oxygen to soothe his aching lungs.

This was usually the part where he remembered what it was like to wake up. The point where he felt like he was dying again, could die at any moment, and was it worth going through everything a second time just to end up right back where he started?

Waking up groggy and confused, not knowing where he was or how he had gotten there, only the overwhelming smell of old packed earth and the sensation of being choked. Clawing rabidly at thick wood, his nails ripped off in the effort and blood caking his long slender fingers, only to finally be pushed out into fresh air, stinging with the contact of something wet. Pushing his way through splintered wood and dirt and grass, crawling out of a grave into the dark night, no moon in the sky and the heavens pouring down. Alone. Not knowing who he was. Not particularly caring. Numb.

Then everything that followed.

This was usually the part where he remembered.

The ringing in his ears had subsided and there was still yelling, only he could tell it wasn't the collective screams of the masses but rather very close to his head and very familiar. The voice sounded calm yet urgent, and if Jason didn't say something soon he feared the voice would grow panicked. He couldn't deal with someone else's panic at that particular moment, he was having a crisis of his own.

He gasped for air, trying to respond to the voice, reaching his hands up and connecting with two strong, blessedly human arms. He squeezed them with every bit of strength he had left in his reserves to try and hoist himself up. The arms had hands connected to them and they pushed back against his shoulders, the voice soothing him to sit against the brick wall behind him, take it easy. _Yeah, I'll get right on that,_ Jason huffed.

The arms disappeared from under his grasp and then his helmet was being pulled off his head. Two strong calloused hands cupped his cheeks, holding his head in place, and there in front of him was Kyle. He looked like a dream, the shadows of the alley playing over his face making his illuminated green eyes stand out even more. Huh that's weird, he always thought Kyle’s eyes were a warm brown, like melting chocolate, but there they were glowing green. Why had he thought that? His mind couldn't keep up, and then it didn't have to as Kyle swooped in and firmly planted his lips atop Jason’s stealing what little breath he had left. He kissed him hard, teeth clacking, fervent, like it was the last time their lips would ever meet or, rather, like it was the first time their lips met in so long, like he was Odysseus and Kyle the man he’d left behind for war.

Kyle pulled away, the kiss over in a moment, eyebrows knitted in worry and some unreadable emotion swirling in those green eyes that seemed to be shining even brighter now. Jason let out a long breath through pursed lips, finally feeling like he could breath normally again. Kyle’s face was still very close, only inches away, and he watched reverently as a small smile formed on his lips and his features softened ever so slightly. He swiped a thumb under Jason’s eye, smearing the blood on his face making him wince slightly at the sharp sting of pain that erupted. Kyle apologized softly, and although chaos ensued around them, this small corner of safety he had carved out for himself sounded so quiet and serene.

“Thanks,” Jason said quietly, air now securely in his lungs.

“No problem,” Kyle smiled again, lowering his hands from Jason’s face. Then his brows furrowed again, his eyes searching Jason’s. “Does that happen often?”

“What, nearly getting my head knocked off by rampaging alien robots,” Jason asked sarcastically. He made a show of pondering the suggestion before replying flatly, “no not really.”

But Kyle shook his head, mouth in a tight line and Jason didn't like that expression marring his pretty face.

“No, not that,” he said quietly. “I meant the panic attack.”

Oh.

That.

Jason liked to forget that they happened. Late at night as he bolted upright in bed, sheets soaked in sweat and tears, chest feeling like it's being ripped open from the inside out, gut churning bile and acid in cascading waves of nausea. During the heat of battle when unwanted images poked at his brain, a hot branding iron unwilling to be ignored. As he watched his own blood seep from fresh new wounds earned in his second life and he swears for just a moment that the red was in fact an otherworldly green, the color of the Lazarus pit running through his veins instead of the Life he was born with.

Jason liked to forget.

He remembered everything though.

Jason sighed, moving to stand. Kyle moved to help him but Jason shook of his hands, using the wall behind him for support instead. He steeled himself, his face morphing into a mask of blankness now that his helmet was gone as he looked back at Kyle. And, God, he wished he could just continue where he left off while Jason was busy hyperventilating and kiss the man stupid, until he forgot where he was or _who_ he was and clung to Jason in desperation. But then that would be admitting that Jason liked to forget, that he didn't want to talk about it, and despite his boasting and bold almost daily reminders that he did, in fact, die…Jason did not want to talk about it.

“Not often,” he finally answered quietly, voice low.

Kyle nodded, but he didn't say anything, didn't move from his spot in front of Jason mere inches away. Then he reached out, and Jason wanted to flinch away, wanted to avoid the pitying affection, but he grounded himself instead because this was Kyle; not Bruce or Dick or anyone else, but Kyle. And his hand simply rested securely on his shoulder, squeezing once in reassurance before dropping back to his side. He jerked his head in the direction of the street Jason was on before world came crashing down indicating that they get back to it.

“I've got your back,” Kyle said, suit outlining in that glowing green, mask settling back into place covering up those mysteriously colored eyes. He hovered off the ground but didn't fly away, instead moving in tandem with Jason on the ground.

“I've got yours,” Jason grinned, pulling two fully loaded guns from his thigh holsters and holding them up. Then they made their way onto the main street and further into the throng of mayhem together.

* * *

All the furniture in Kyle’s small one-bedroom apartment had been pushed aside in favor of a large futon and mountainous blankets that covered the floor. Jason could see the appeal of the place; an open floor plan for the living room and kitchen, the only other door besides the front belonging to the bedroom. The far wall was a large window that led out to a shallow terrace covered in potted plants, flowering bushes and yellow string lights hanging from the narrow awning. A few stray painted canvases that had been left out to dry even though was dark out now, the sun long since set and the moon taking her place, stars dotting the midnight sky in effervescent jewels.

They were supposed to be watching a movie, one Jason had never seen before. Not that it was a hard task to accomplish since he didn't get much leisure time to watch new movies while they were out in theater, and he spent a lot of time…away...in his youth to remember any of the old ones. When Kyle invited him over for a movie night, assuring him he would love the selection he’d picked out (not that Jason doubted him since this was about their 50th movie night over the years and he never disliked a single movie the man had shown him), Jason wondered when exactly Kyle _did_ get the time to watch all those movies given his extraterrestrial activities.

They were supposed to be watching a movie, a projector set up to display the horror flick on the wall, television and stand pushed out of the way in favor of the old school device, but instead they faced the large window, gazing out at the night sky on their tummies and covered in thick blankets, soft pillows scattered around them.

“Do you ever miss it out there?” Jason broke the comfortable silence they were in, speaking in a hushed tone so as not to ruin the mood.

Kyle turned to regard him, a contemplative look on his face as he considered the question. As Jason waited, he gazed back at Kyle and, oh, this was his favorite look on him; with soft  moonlight pouring in, eyes bright with that ethereal ring of green around his brown irises that always seemed to be present around Jason. He’d spent years after they reconnected trying to figure out exactly what color they were supposed to be. Jason always prided himself on his good memory, but the way those damned eyes seemed to morph and change every time he saw the man irritated him to no end. It irritated him so much eventually he just asked out of the blue during one of their movie nights in a huff of annoyance.

_“Dude, what color even are your eyes?”_

Kyle had looked at him surprised, mouth half-full with the chili fries they were sharing. Then this look enveloped his face, eyes going soft and chili-cheese-covered mouth going gooey in a stupid lopsided grin.

 _“Why are you so interested?”_ He’d teased _._

 _“Because it’s annoying.”_ Jason crossed his arms over his chest, his default bitch-face mask on.

Kyle just threw his head back and laughed, eyes crinkling, adam’s apple bobbing making Jason’s throat go dry.

 _“It just depends,”_ he laughed, holding up his hand and pointing to his Lantern ring with a greasy finger. Jason never got to see it when it was white and he lamented the fact. Kyle looked damn good in green but the image of him in a shining white uniform did tantalize his fantasies. _“This thing is kind of like a mood ring actually. Depending on how I'm feeling, like what I'm feeling and how intensely, then my eyes change too.”_

 _“Huh.”_ Jason pondered the explanation before a single solitary thought struck and reverberated through his brain, pushing its way out of his mouth. _“So what do you feel when you're with me?”_

 _“Well you're funny and funny looking so,”_ he cracked a sideways grin bringing a beer bottle up to his lips. _“Amused.”_

Jason hurled a handful of chili fries at him.

He didn't think he imagined it: the air was definitely charged with tension between them. But one of them (usually Jason) always deflected, perpetuating their game of chicken to be repeated over and over again. They’d already been playing the game for years after all. What's a few more until he dies for good?

“Mm, sometimes.” Kyle’s soft voice floated to his ears, a curious expression on his face. Jason had to suppress the urge to jump at the sound, so lost in his thoughts he nearly forgot he’d asked a question. “But, I usually miss here more.”

“Hm,” Jason hummed. He turned to look back out into the vast beyond.

“What about you?”

“Huh?” He turned to look at Kyle as the man shifted his position, rolling to lay on his back with an arm propped under his head for support, the other laying across his belly.

“Is there someplace you miss?”

He looked at Kyle wondering if he should answer truthfully. If he should say that he’s never really had a place to miss, and the one time he thought he did he had been tragically wrong. If he should tell him that even in his childhood he’d never even had a home, just rundown apartments and alleyways and a manor he could be housed in until the inevitable. If he should say that even after he’d come back, after he got (some of) his shit together, after he’d built a team, people he could even call friends at the most and comrades at the least, he still didn't have somewhere to call home. If he should say that even if he had a safe house away from the safe house he shared with his teammates, an apartment to call his own, it still didn't feel like _home_.

But he didn't want to get intimate with Kyle, not right now and not in the way that mattered. He craved a different kind of intimacy with the man. So instead of answering, he leaned forward on his elbows, inching closer and closer to Kyle's face until he was only a hairsbreadth away, watching all the while as Kyle’s eyes grew wider.

Jason hovered over Kyle for a moment, studying his features; the crease of his thick brow, the glowing green that had nearly taken over the soft brown of his eyes, his full pink lips parted slightly in anticipation.

“Sometimes,” he whispered, breath ghosting over Kyle’s lips. “But I miss here more.” Sometimes half-truths worked wonders.

He watched Kyle shiver, sucking a breath in sharply. Heated tension thrummed in the air as Jason stayed put, just out of reach, and Kyle lay frozen on the floor, unmoving, waiting, waiting, waiting until-

Jason reached up, his hand grabbing the thick flesh of Kyle’s neck, fingertips brushing the short hairs at the back of his head holding him in place as he leaned down closing the distance between them and kissed Kyle at last. He opened his mouth against Kyle’s own, lips sliding together, a small sound of want escaping from Kyle’s throat and vibrating throughout Jason’s body. Kyle moved then and, with their lips locked, reached one hand up to grab Jason’s shoulder in a vice grip, the other landing on his hip, pulling him further down on top of him. Then he changed the angle of the kiss, turning slightly and opening his mouth further giving Jason access to slip his tongue in, pushing past teeth to lick inside deliciously. Kyle made a sound somewhere between moan and surprise before pulling back slightly.

“What was that?” Kyle was panting hard, eyes wide and slightly dazed, cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of red.

“What was what?” Jason said each word in a huff, struggling to catch his breath and desperate for Kyle to suck his lungs dry again. His brain was working hard to catch up with Kyle’s question, to form a more coherent thought than ‘huh?’ and when it finally registered and Jason thought that maybe—oh no, maybe he _did_ read the atmosphere wrong, maybe he made a monumental mistake, but before any of that panic could translate onto his face, Kyle moved the hand from his shoulder to lightly brush his fingers at the corner of Jason’s mouth.

He moved his fingers along Jason’s bottom lip, then applied pressure, trying to force his mouth open. Jason complied, parting his lips slightly and watching as Kyle furrowed his brow, reaching a slender finger inside to brush against the bulb on his tongue. He gasped, pulling his finger out and glancing back up into Jason’s eyes.

“Oh,” he said dumbly. Then he grinned devilishly, leaning back and moving over so that he was now straddling Kyle, knees on either side of his waist and resting his weight on his hips. He stuck his tongue out as far as he could, sure the silver metal bar piercing through the soft muscle would be shimmering in the moonlight. “You mean this?” He said lowly.

Kyle’s head fell back against the futon, a long exhale pushed through wet lips, and pupils blown wide now only showing a rim of dark glowing green. He ran his hands along Jason’s thighs, traveling them upward to the hem of his soft grey shirt. Jason wasted no time in ripping the garment off and tossing it aside so that Kyle could continue his assent uninhibited. Rough fingers ran along his sides, feeling the dip and curve of each rib, the ridges of each muscle. Jason's eyes fell closed and he had to bite his lip to suppress the urge to moan at the feeling. Kyle’s hands reached his neck and he pulled down gently, all the way down until Jason’s forearms bracketed his head and their mouths connected again in a searing kiss. Kyle opened his mouth wide, tongue flicking out to meet Jason’s, teasing, testing, inviting, and Jason responded wantonly. He licked inside, tongue slick against tongue, to rub the bulb against the roof of Kyle’s mouth. Kyle let out a low moan that Jason swallowed, tickling his throat and echoing against the walls to mingle with the sounds of heavy breathing and the occasional clink of metal against bone as they kissed long and hard. 

They parted, Kyle resting his sweat-slicked forehead against Jason’s, gasping for air.

“That feels good,” Kyle said breathlessly, rubbing his thumb along Jason’s spit slicked lip.

Jason grinned. Leaning back, he placed a strong hand on Kyle’s chest pushing him back into the futon. Kyle watched him, looking at him with his brows lowered in slight confusion, his eyes hungry with want. Then, very deliberately and very slowly, Jason ground his hips against Kyle’s and watched as his head fell back against the futon. He placed his hands on Kyle’s hips to keep them from moving as he repeated the action, sticking the tip of his tongue out biting it to keep his shit-eating grin from splitting his face wide open at the sight of Kyle's open pleasure.

To add fuel to the flame, he leaned forward and whispered lowly, “that’s not the only place it feels good.”

Kyle whipped his head back up and watched as Jason quirked an eyebrow, dark eyes traveling down Kyle’s body before resting on their target pointedly. He glanced back up, locking eyes, pure with desire. Kyle slowly settled against the futon again, hips shifting just so, eyes already half-lidded, as he breathed, “okay.”

* * *

Rain poured down from the heavens drenching his body, clothes stuck to every nook and cranny of his skin uncomfortably. Nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep breath trying to quell the heaving of his chest. He was trying desperately to come down from the sickening high of the latest panic attack to conquer his mind, body, and soul. He was trying desperately to ignore the worried existence hovering behind him. Literally hovering. He wasn't sure why (that's a lie he was keenly aware as to why) it was bothering him so much at that moment, but it was and he’d had enough. So he spun on his heels, yanking his arm backwards then launching it forward, the helmet released from is grip in a fury crimson flash.

Kyle ducked his head, dodging it easily, and raised his arms up with the palms flat in a form of surrender. He’d shed the domino mask and Jason couldn't bear to see that telltale green, knowing full well what he was feeling to cause the glow, so he averted his eyes to just over Kyle’s shoulder.

“What do you want?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the rain and it hurt his raw throat.

“I just wanna make sure you're okay,” he said soothingly.

His toes touched concrete and he lowered himself until he was standing securely on the rooftop. Kyle took a tentative step toward Jason and he responded by turning on his heel again, making his way towards the edge.

“What, you think because we fucked a few times I need you here?” He spat the words, resisting the urge to flinch at the own venom being poured from his mouth.

“No, that’s—”

And Jason hated how upset Kyle sounded, voice barely carrying over the pounding rain, but Jason hurt and wanted to hurt. So like pressing into a bruise, he whirled around again to face Kyle soaking his wounds in salt.

“Then why are you here! Fuck! Everywhere I go, you're always there!”

His throat had already been rubbed raw and the more he screamed the more it scratched and Jason wanted to reach up and dig at it with his nails until he bled and the sinew hung from his flesh uselessly.

But Kyle…. Kyle just stood there, arms lowered back down to his sides, and he looked as wrecked as Jason felt despite showing no obvious injury. And Kyle…. His eyes were still warm and through all the worry and hurt he could see the softness of his gaze, how open his body language was just waiting for Jason. Just waiting.

Jason prided himself on his memory.

He remembered everything.

He remembered a night years ago. The first time he’d run into Kyle after their escapades across the multiverse. Kyle laying next to him in bed, open and soft and inviting not all that different from now. Jason looking back at him vulnerable, feeling like in one more breath, in one more heartbeat, with just one more drink, one more push over the edge, he might just bare his soul to this man.

He remembered everything.

Except he couldn't remember how his panic attack had been triggered. It was happening with more and more frequency, the lines blurring and melting together until he lost himself entirely. Vague visions of an altercation with Bruce; hazy recollections of a mission nearly gone awry with the Outlaws; shaking Artemis' off as he muttered something about going on patrol; nearly beating the shit out of a guy who looked to be in his 50’s getting handsy with a teenage girl. All of it was coming back to him in bits and pieces but not enough for Jason’s addled brain to put it all back together in one clear, high-definition picture.

And there was Kyle. Still just standing there waiting for him and Jason could…well he could just cry. He was always just there. Somehow, Kyle would find him at the exact moments he needed him, whether he wanted him or not; in battle, on the streets, in bed.

He let the anger wash from his face in the rain, letting his mask slip back on. He blew out a long sigh, ran a slightly trembling hand through his wet hair.

“I'm tired,” he said flatly. “Just go home.”

Kyle moved quickly then, brows crashing down over his eyes, mouth set in a taught line.

“No,” he said sternly, coming towards Jason in long steady strides. “No, _no, no_ —do _not_ do this Jason.” His voice quivered as he grabbed Jason by the shoulders and shook them lightly.

“No, please don't do this,” he begged, his voice breaking. Jason looked back at him empty, sure the ache in his heart was a new kind of pain (it wasn't), and welcoming it. Kyle’s expression grew angry and he shook Jason again. “Don't close yourself off from me!”

Jason swatted Kyle’s hands away, stepping backwards out of his reach.

“I'm not,” he said harshly.

“Yes! You are!” Kyle threw his hands up in exasperation. “You always do! Any time I try and get close to you, any time I take even one step towards you, you go and take ten steps back!” He was breathing heavily and took a moment to collect his breath and thoughts before speaking again, dangerously low. “And it's not because I fuck you that I care.”

Jason felt like he’d just been punched in the gut, air forced from his lungs in a great huff. They didn't talk about their feelings for each other and they didn't talk about what they didn't talk about. They skirted around the topic, Jason distracting Kyle with physical comfort and Kyle allowing it over and over and over again. Kyle was a hopeless romantic; he’d take the torturous dance in favor of Jason casting him aside altogether, too in love with the idea of love to ask himself if this was really all he wanted out of a relationship: a moody, brooding zombie boy who couldn't shut up about death but snapping his mouth shut before revealing anything too deep.

“What do you want me to say?”

He wasn't sure he was the one who said the words, sounding so broken and hollow and small, until he looked back at Kyle watching him with a stunned expression. He softened his face, the harsh glow of his eyes dimming and the lines around his mouth smoothing. Then he took a tentative step forward and, seeing Jason stay in place, crossed the rooftop until he was only an arms length away. He looked down and grabbed one of Jason’s hands, interlocking their fingers and squeezing lightly.

“You don't have to tell me everything,” he said quietly. “Just…tell me what's wrong and how I can help," whispered the last part desperately. He took a breath before taking another step forward so he could lean his forehead against Jason’s.

The rain had let up slightly, enough so that Jason could hear their breathing and the rushing of blood in his ears. His heart was beating erratically, more than the first time they were naked together, bodies overheated in the throes of passion. Because it was a much more terrifying feat to bare one’s naked soul than a naked body. The body could recover, quickly even, but the soul required something more tender, something harder to come by. And Jason didn't want to admit it yet, what it was that he yearned for just as much as Kyle did, in every facet and form it came in.

“I love you.”

The words were whispered, barely audible and mingling with the perpetual droplets from above, and he felt them across his lips more than he heard them. They hung in the air between their bodies before burrowing into his skin and floating in his blood to finally take root in his heart.

Jason stared at Kyle and he was close enough now to notice the patterns swirling within the alien green, like tiny galaxies spinning idly around in his eyes, glistening and sparkling.

Kyle reached his free hand up to cup Jason’s cheek gently.

“I'm in love with you,” he repeated and it was just as earth-shattering the second time around. Kyle pressed his forehead harder against Jason’s as he closed his eyes. “I thought that if I opened up to you then you would do the same, but you never did. And I wondered if maybe it was because we never talk about this kind of stuff—that maybe you just don't realize how much I love you.”

“…how much?” His voice trembled and it came out soft so as not to further aggravate his sore throat.

Kyle's eyes flew open and he pulled back to look into Jason’s.

“What?”

“How much?” He spoke a little louder, tilted his chin upward, not in challenge but in something else and Kyle caught on quickly.

A slow sweet smile spread across his lips, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way that made Jason melt into a sticky pile of goo like a popsicle on a hot summer day. He rested his forehead against Jason’s again, his eyes sliding close as he just…breathed. Jason watched him for a moment before closing his own, his lungs only capable of filling with shallow breaths at the behest of the thundering of his heart. They stayed like that for seconds, minutes, hours, days, years, eons. Then Kyle unlocked their fingers to slowly slide his hand up Jason’s arm to finally come to a rest at his jaw so that he could tug his face forward. Jason followed the movement, offering up no resistance as Kyle’s lips met his.

This was the language they spoke best in and it was unlike any kiss they shared before. Kyle kissed him softly, tenderly, conveying all his emotions in a simple brush of the lips. He kissed him again and again, silently and without heat, just light strokes full everything he’d been locking inside of his heart over the years.

They parted, Kyle immediately pulling Jason into a hug. He held him tightly and Jason used the opportunity to say what he needed to say without having to look at Kyle’s face, burrowing into the crook of his shoulder. 

“There’s a lot I can't tell you. Not necessarily because I don't want to but because I can't right now. But someday…you'll be the first person I tell.”

Kyle nodded and began to lightly stoke his back, tracing small circles into rain soaked clothes. 

“Okay,” he murmured.

* * *

The cotton shirt was stifling against his skin, stick to his chest and back with sweat. He sat up in bed and quickly peeled it off, tossing it aside to land somewhere across the room. It was a new moon out tonight blanketing the room in darkness. Ants crawled just beneath the dermis, hot blood stinging his veins, hands twitching with the need for movement.

Fingers brushed against his own and he grasped on, squeezing them tightly.

“Ow.” The voice was muffled by an overstuffed fluffy pillow.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, loosening his grip.

“S’okay,” he slurred. “Nightmare?”

“Yeah.” He gave a quick squeeze to his fingers. “I'm fine, go back to sleep.”

He couldn't quite see the man beside him, only able to make out the long plane of his back to his hips that dipped below the covers, the sharp edge of his shoulder blade, the bend in his elbow and the hand in his. Jason watched as the man dozed off, cheek pressed against the pillow and collecting drool, heavy torso dipping into the mattress, and his heart seized.

They’d been dating long enough that Kyle actually believed him now when he said he was okay. Jason had found it strange to wake up next to somebody else routinely at first, especially when he bolted awake in the middle of the night from some hellish landscape only to be startled by someone else's presence next to him. He’d nearly knocked Kyle’s jaw clean off his face once. Jason apologized every time his eyes landed on the deep bruise, all the way up until it healed completely. Kyle said it was okay about a million and one times. He would simply shush and coax him back to sleep, stroking his back, pulling him to his chest, wrapping his harms and legs around him like a human blanket. He didn't ask often what the dreams were about. When he did ask, sometimes Jason would answer but more often than not he kept them to himself. Kyle was okay with that.

Jason had told very little about his life during their time together. Kyle waited, warmly and openly like always. Sometimes Jason still lashed out and Kyle would yell back calling him a big stupid idiot in the same breath he told him that he loved him. Kyle had worn down his edges and allowed himself to be soft. When Jason went out on missions Kyle would tell him to make sure he came back home in one piece. One time Jason asked “what happens if I don't come back in one piece?” Kyle responded by constructing a giant green bottle of glue and said “I'll put you back together.”

The sweat covering his skin cooled causing a violent shiver to rip through his body. He slowly lowered himself back down onto his side so that he didn't jostle the bed, keeping a watchful eye on Kyle so he didn't wake him. He laid there for a moment before, cold and too far away from his man before rising up on his elbow again and leaning forward. Kyle was still loosely gripping his hand, so he used the other one to lightly cup his face as he leaned down and brushed their lips together. Kyle hummed into the kiss, the sound nestling into Jason's chest in a soft sigh. Jason pecked him once more before pulling back and wrapping his arms around his chest. He pulled Kyle into him, chest to chest, pushing one of his legs between Kyle's and nestling his face into his thick wavy locks. Kyle pressed his nose against Jason’s neck and breathed in the scent there.

“I love you,” he said tenderly. 

Kyle smiled against his skin placing a wet kiss to his neck. They nestled together, breathing soft and rhythmic. He was just on the cusp of sweet slumber and was sure Kyle had fallen back asleep already until his arms twitched slightly and he pulled Jason closer.

“I love you,” he breathed, the words floating into the night like on a dream.

**Author's Note:**

> QUEEN OF EXCESSIVE COMMAS AND RUN ON SENTENCES!!!!!
> 
> first off shoutout to nicky for the lovely eye color headcanon! I can never remember what color Kyle's eyes are supposed to be so of course I ask my friends every. single. time. and!!! nicky dropped a gem on me!! wiki canon green is out, headcanon brown but turns green with emotion is in babey! 
> 
> some little tidbits and facts that didn't make it into the fic:  
> -this takes place over the course of many, many years.  
> -the first time Kyle and Jason meet up is about a year after the events of countdown.  
> -Jason never gets that drunk again.  
> -personally, I headcanon that Jason at least believes in something since it's in canon that he went to heaven when he died. Idk what he believes in but he does.  
> -they banged.  
> -Jason does kill people but not in this fic (Kyle stopped him).  
> -on moonless night or when it rains Jason dreams of when he woke up.
> 
> drop a kudos if you like! comments are even better ;) 
> 
> if you wanna discuss the fic or headcanons more hit me up on [tumblr](https://bigdickkakashi.tumblr.com)!  
> 


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